


Autumn

by yaycoffee



Category: Joan of Arcadia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:12:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaycoffee/pseuds/yaycoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane told him once that she talked to God.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn

Jane told him once that she talked to God. He didn't know what to think about that; she was sick. _So sick._ But, her eyes were thick with hope and fear and love and tears. Her eyes were almost always filled with tears. Her eyes were one of the things he loved most about her.   
  
Then, she went away.  
  
While she was gone, one day, he remembered--a flash of eidetic ____memory switched on, a film in his head.  
  
He remembered a time in the bookstore--they were talking, and he hadn't talked to anyone is so long; he missed his mother, and Jane--she _understood_ without having known anything at all. And she almost told him something before a customer needed her help. When she came back she didn't tell.  The customer had touched his arm on her way out, and he knew it would be all right… she would tell him later.  
  
And, she did.  
  
But, she was _sick_ , and...  
  
The day he remembered--that was the day he went to Jane's bookstore again, but there was no Jane, just Sammy, and the bookstore felt like everwhere else--empty.  
  
He picked up a book, and he noticed the other customer in the shop checking out at the register. She smiled at him when she caught him looking. It was the same customer from _that_ day, and he thought it might be some kind of sign.   
  
On her way out the door, she stopped and looked at him, all little-old-lady sweater and owl-like eyes blinking at hiim from behind her glasses. He expected her voice to sound older or frailer, but she spoke clearly, with a strength and a tenderness that somehow rang familiar, like he knew it already--from somewhere.   
  
"Looks like autumn is on the way," she said, watching a swirl of leaves blow past the window on the breeze before turning her eyes back to him. "You know, I always liked autumn. The leaves change color. Everything looks different.  The trees start to look dead, but they aren't; they just need time. In the spring, they will be even fuller than last year."   
  
She smiled at him, but he didn't know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet.  He was going to ask her about it, but she had already opened the door to leave.  With a jangle she was gone; he could see her through the window glass, skirt blowing around her knees as she walked out of sight.

 

He paid Sammy for his books and headed down the street toward home. The wind against his face was cool, so he pulled up his hood, feeling the weight of the books in his bag, wondering what it would be like to talk to God.  
  
*fin*


End file.
